


this modern love

by crooked



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Les Amis de l'ABC, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-27 02:55:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/973474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crooked/pseuds/crooked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire finally wears Enjolras down - and gets him to Snapchat with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this modern love

**Author's Note:**

> based on [this](http://cutefeyrac.tumblr.com/post/61612911186) headcanon by cutefeyrac because _oh my gosh cute_!

_come on, e. it'll be fun! you might even like it_ , Grantaire taps out on his phone's screen, sending the text to Enjolras.

Enjolras frowns at the message when it comes through, completely sure this is just the Worst Idea Ever. _I don't know. I just don't think I'd be any good at it. I barely manage to successfully send you regular texts._

_but you do,_ Grantaire insists. a _nd you send me pictures. it's just easier to combine the two._

_Picture. I sent you one picture_ , Enjolras replies. By accident because he didn't realize he'd tapped the icon to turn the front-facing camera on until it was too late. He still doesn't know why Grantaire has it set as his phone's wallpaper.

_just try it_ , Grantaire messages. _if you hate it, we don't have to keep doing it. god, i sound like i'm pressuring you into sex._

Enjolras laughs out loud, glancing up to flash a sheepish grin at Combeferre who is sitting on the opposite end of the couch with a textbook of inhumane thickness propped open on his knees. "R," he says, indicating his phone. Combeferre just lifts his eyebrows and smiles to himself because that really does explain it all.

_You didn't have to, remember?_ he texts back. Enjolras is fully aware of the smirk on his face and the fact that Combeferre keeps glancing up at him.

Grantaire is smirking on the other end of the conversation, but he's in class, supposedly working on an assignment, not texting his boyfriend behind the easel. _alright, that's enough out of you_ , he replies. _i'm in class and i can't get saucy with you. just download the app and have courf set it up for you._

_I resent that_ , Enjolras responds quickly, fingers tapping furiously. _I can set it up myself!_

_good_ , Grantaire texts back. _so we'll give this a go when i'm done with classes later._

Enjolras doesn't reply because, goddammit, Grantaire is good. Enjolras sighs and navigates to the app store so he can download Snapchat.

And later goes to find Courfeyrac so he can set it up for him.

\-----

The first picture (text? snapchat... thing?) comes in just as Enjolras is logging into the group's blog admin account. They all have access to it, everyone can contribute whenever inspiration strikes. Courfeyrac is the one who updates it the most regularly, with Jehan's photo posts following as a close second. Enjolras posts content about once a month, unless some major news story or legislation happens and then he's always the one to take on that day's post. But today he's just checking traffic stats and comments.

He picks up his phone and taps the screen, and there is a close-up of Grantaire, his eyes wide and apparently biting into a green apple. There's a transparent black bar across the bottom of the image with the word 'hey' written across it in white letters.

"This is what he was dying to send me?" Enjolras mutters to himself, though he's wearing a soft smile on his face. God, it's ridiculous how cute Grantaire can be without even trying. The image disappears after a few seconds, and he remembers Courfeyrac telling him about the timer and him complaining that was a useless feature.

But now Enjolras has to send something back. He looks around the room and sees his unmade bed, a bookshelf crammed with at least three times the amount of books it was built to hold, one wall that's been partially covered (with Jehan's help) with a work-in-progress mural comprised of protest signs from various rallies and pictures of Enjolras and his friends at said rallies and Pride and just hanging out wherever. There's nothing Grantaire hasn't seen, nothing that would be terribly interesting to him.

He swivels in his chair and turns back to face his desk. Papers and his open laptop and the remnants of the salad he'd eaten just moments ago. That's nothing interesting either. But it's where he's at and what he's doing and isn't that the point of this thing? So he takes three different pictures at three different angles before he gets one that looks decent enough.

Grantaire gets the notification of the reply and laughs when he sees Enjolras' cluttered desk captioned with the  words 'I told you I'd be bad at this'. He immediately snaps a picture of the bright smile he's wearing and sends it back to Enjolras within seconds.

'Terrible but still adorable', the image reads. Enjolras can't help but smile back at the image of Grantaire. He loves that smile. It's wide and genuine, and there was a time when he wondered if the man was capable of such a thing. And in the month since they started dating, properly dating and not stuck in that weird I-like-you-and-let's make-out- _a_ - _lot_ -but-this-thing-still-doesn't-have-a-name phase, Enjolras has noticed that Grantaire smiles like that all the time. Mostly at him. He can neither confirm nor deny that he's come to think of it as his smile.

"Are the numbers up?" Combeferre asks, suddenly appearing in the doorway. Enjolras is still grinning at his phone when he looks up. "What are you doing?"

"Uh, snapchatting with R," Enjolras answers, unsuccessfully trying to fight off a blush. "Is that how you say it? Snapchatting?"

Combeferre doesn't bother trying to hide his own grin. He never thought he'd see the day when Enjolras got like this over anything that wasn't The Cause. "If you can put your boyfriend aside for one second," he teases, "Talk numbers to me."

"Thirteen thousand unique hits since last night," Enjolras says, glancing at the laptop. "Jehan's pictures are putting us on the map. Speaking of..." Enjolras holds up his phone. "Say hi to Grantaire."

Combeferre is quicker than he looks, and when Enjolras looks at the screen to see the photo he's captured, it's Combeferre holding his hands up over his face. "Don't be so unsociable," he calls to Combeferre's retreating back. Enjolras sends the image anyway. 'Combeferre says what's up'.

Grantaire knows full well Combeferre said no such thing but smiles anyway. He takes a break from sending Enjolras pictures to quickly text Combeferre:

> _my god, ferre, help him_
> 
> _I want no part of this, R._

\-----

As it turns out, Enjolras really is bad at snapchatting.

Grantaire sends him another image of himself, wearing a shit that says _Real men don't give a fuck if you think they're real men_ and pulling a ridiculous face. He captions it 'handsome, right?' and Enjolras sends back a pic of his hand flashing a thumbs up with the words 'Devastatingly so' across it. Grantaire sends another, him just raising an eyebrow at the camera. 'let me see your face', he writes across the top of it.

Enjolras sends a picture of himself hiding behind a copy of _Howl_. 'No'.

Grantaire replies with another plea, this time him grinning like a kid trying to convince a parent to let him have ice cream before dinner with 'pleeeease?' stamped across it.

It continues like this for a few minutes: Grantaire's begging face getting more and more exaggerated and Enjolras' refusals admittedly getting a bit more creative, teasing with just a hint of blond hair peeking out here or a flash of blue eye there. Grantaire is relentless, sending another headshot with him making puppy dog eyes at the camera, complete with the biggest pout he can manage. 'pretty pretty please with a cherry on top, e?'

Enjolras finally sends an image of himself. 'Ugh, fine', he writes. The lighting is horrible and half his face is hidden in shadows. But he's looking down and some of his hair has fallen loose from the bun he'd pulled it back into and he's smiling and it's the most striking thing Grantaire has ever seen. He's so mesmerized by the sight, by the thought that, god, this is his boyfriend and _he chose Grantaire_ and he looks like an actual angel, that he forgets to take a screenshot of the picture.

Enjolras has abandoned his bedroom in favor of wandering around the apartment with his phone clutched in his hand, settling in a chair by the window but then deciding the couch is better but then, no, the kitchen table is best. Combeferre and Courfeyrac exchange glances and smiles because they know Enjolras and they know what this is, even if he isn't ready to admit it in as many words just yet.

It seems to take forever for Grantaire to reply after Enjolras sends him the picture of his face, and he gets a bit nervous. Grantaire had been replying quickly, and now this pause. Did he do something wrong? Was the picture really _that_ bad? Enjolras is frowning at his silent phone when a notification makes him jump. He quickly fumbles with it, tapping the screen to see what Grantaire has sent him.

At first, Enjolras isn't quite sure what it is. He's expecting Grantaire's face, so the configuration of brightly-colored letters confuses him. It slowly dawns on him that he's looking at Grantaire's refrigerator, the biggest clue being the shopping list just visible in the right-hand corner of the image: _WINE_ (underlined twice), and then _bread_ , _milk_ , and _eggs_ added in what looks like Joly's handwriting.

But it's the letters Enjolras eventually focuses on. He recognizes the refrigerator magnets Jehan got them all last Christmas. There's a set on the refrigerator in the kitchen. Grantaire has arranged them to spell out a message to Enjolras, one that leaves him grinning at the phone and just the slightest bit breathless. 'I LOVE U', the slightly crooked letters read. It's not the first time he's ever said that to him, but it's still an entirely new thing. It makes Enjolras warm all over like he's flushed, and if he could see himself he'd know that his cheeks definitely are.

Enjolras gets up to go to the refrigerator, thinking this calls for a magnet letter message in response. He halts in his steps almost immediately, though. "Shit," he mutters to himself. "Shit, the timer." Enjolras barely manages to remember how to take a screenshot on his phone in time, breathing a sigh of relief as the image is saved to his gallery just before it vanishes.

Unbeknownst to Enjolras, Grantaire sees 'Screenshot!' on their chat log and he actually clutches his phone to his chest for a moment, the grin on his face so wide it threatens to split his cheeks. "You sentimental little shit," he says fondly, waiting for Enjolras' reply.

'ME TOO', the magnet letters say when Grantaire opens the next image.

He rolls his eyes with nothing but affection. He hadn't been expecting an 'I love you' back because Enjolras can't seem to say the actual words. Grantaire doesn't mind. Enjolras better expresses himself in nonverbal ways, which he finds completely ironic given the fact that the man's speeches could probably move mountains. But it's there in the way Enjolras looks at him, in the way his fingertips gently brush over his jaw or through his hair, in the way his body moves with Grantaire's.

Grantaire, now sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of his refrigerator, reaches for the letters and starts to arrange another message.

\-----

Courfeyrac pats Combeferre's thigh as he gets up from the sofa, the two of them somehow ending up tangled together and decidedly _not_ watching the TV. "Beer?" he asks, heading toward the kitchen.

Combeferre is surprised Courfeyrac didn't make a joke about being thirsty. "I think there's a cider left in there," he says. "If not, a beer will work. Thanks."

Courfeyrac salutes and pushes the kitchen door open, but he doesn't get very far. He sees Enjolras sitting on the floor in front of the refrigerator, the alphabet magnets all clustered near the bottom of the door. He takes a picture of the words he's spelled out: 'WANT TO KISS YOU'. Courfeyrac is silent as he pulls his own phone from his back pocket, but he doesn't think Enjolras would notice him if he came through with a full marching band in tow.

Grantaire's timing is perfect because just as he cues up his camera to snap a picture, whatever R replies with makes Enjolras smile the widest, most obviously smitten smile Courfeyrac has ever seen - on him or anyone. He takes the pic and quietly slips back out, forgetting about getting him and Combeferre their drinks.

Combeferre wears a questioning look as Courfeyrac rejoins him, plopping down right beside him, so close he's practically half on his lap. "The service here is terrible," he says, draping an arm around Courfeyrac's shoulders. "If you think you're getting a tip..."

Courfeyrac elbows him softly and holds up his phone so Combeferre can see. "And if you think I was going to interrupt that, you've lost all reason."

"Is that _our_ E?" Combeferre asks, grinning.

"The one and only," Courfeyrac replies. "He's so far gone."

Combeferre nods at the phone. "So what are you going to do with that? Hold onto it for blackmail purposes?"

Courfeyrac gasps and frowns at him. "What kind of friend do you think I am? I would never blackmail Enjolras." Courfeyrac goes quiet for a moment as he starts tapping on his phone's screen. He flashes a self-satisfied grin as he holds it out to Combeferre less than a minute later. "I would, however, share this beautiful moment with our friends. And whoever else follows me on Instagram."

Combeferre looks at the screen and sees the image on Instagram's familiar layout. He also sees that Courfeyrac has added something to the image: #cutestcouple.

"He's going to kill you, you know," Combeferre says, pulling Courfeyrac in to press a kiss to his temple.

Courfeyrac is still smiling smugly as he leans into the kiss, snuggling closer to Combeferre's side. "He always says that. He hasn't yet."

\-----

Later, much later, as in nearly one in the morning later, Enjolras and Grantaire are lost in the sea of blankets and sheets that is Grantaire's bed. Some time after ten o'clock and after Courfeyrac shouts out that he and Combeferre are going to grab a late-night slice of pizza _because_ somebody _is too busy writing love letters to his boyfriend to worry about his friends eating_ , Enjolras decides he needs to be with Grantaire, that these snapchats are cute but not nearly enough. He can't touch a snapchat, he can't kiss a snapchat, he can't hear a snapchat moan when his lips touch its neck.

"Fucking snapchat," Grantaire breathes out, running a hand through his hair. It's already everywhere and that does nothing to help. It's adorable.

Enjolras rolls onto his side and kisses Grantaire's bare shoulder. "I will go on record as saying I was wrong to resist this for as long as I did," he says.

"Can I quote you on that?" Grantaire asks, reaching out to circle his arm around Enjolras' shoulders and pull him closer to his side.

Enjolras laughs, shaking his head as he scoots over. "Go ahead. Nobody will believe you."

He feels something hard and rectangular beneath his hip and realizes it's his phone. He has no idea how it ended up there, but he fishes it out and starts to put it aside. He then notices the little Instagram icon that tells him he's got a like or a comment. Enjolras can't remember the last image he posted, it had to be days ago. When he opens the app, he realizes that it's not a like or comment at all.

"Oh my god, fucking Courfeyrac," Enjolras mutters, already turning a bright shade of pink. He doesn't even remember Courfeyrac coming into the kitchen, but he did and he tagged Enjolras and Grantaire in the picture he took.

Grantaire looks down at the phone and sees the picture of Enjolras in front of the refrigerator. He sees his smile and he knows that he's the one who put it there. He doesn't say anything. He just turns his head and kisses Enjolras' forehead and smiles. Grantaire barely resists the urge to mouth along when Enjolras says the words he knows are coming.

"I am going to kill him," Enjolras says, but the words lack any conviction whatsoever. As usual.

And Grantaire pretends not to notice Enjolras tapping the heart button beneath the photo before he tosses his phone to the end of the bed and turns his attention to Grantaire once more.


End file.
